


it's okay. we'll be okay.

by skunkanon



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, in-universe, someone come tell this tall boy that a murder he accidentally helped happen isn't his fault, weirdly domestic but i guess they are married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 21:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skunkanon/pseuds/skunkanon
Summary: Ranboo can't tell him.The guilt is eating him alive.
Relationships: Ranboo/Toby Smith | Tubbo
Comments: 6
Kudos: 142





	it's okay. we'll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> nsfw people dni.  
> Anyways, whoever put strawberry blond and mr.loverman on the playlist, which i listened to it for the first time while writing this??? Fuck you /pos.

Tubbo holds his hands in between his own.

"That's not a good joke, Ranboo."

"I'm not joking, Tubbo, I did it. I was enderwalking, but I... I still have the leftover gunpowder."

Tubbo stares at him. He's looking for something. Ranboo can't keep eye contact for any longer.

Tubbo's hands tighten.

And then they let go.

He raises his hand, Ranboo closes his eyes, but the contact never comes.

Tubbo is gone. Where he stood stands Dream.

Dream looks down. Ranboo follows his eyes- Tubbo. Tubbo is on the ground. He's shaking. Ranboo reaches down to help him, but he blinks, and Tubbo is bleeding. Ranboo is holding a pickaxe.

"You did this."

Ranboo shakes his head, but Tubbo repeats himself, over and over. He can't let go of the pickaxe.

"You did this."

  
  


And then he wakes up.

He wipes his face off with the tissues he'd started keeping everywhere he was likely to fall asleep: his own bed, and the couches at his and Tubbo's places.

Tubbo's fallen asleep with his head on Ranboo's chest. The little redstone contraption he'd been working on while the sun set sits between them, Tubbo's fingers loosely curled around the metal. He gingerly moves it to the coffee table, then lays Tubbo down on the couch.

He's going to have to tell him soon.

Dream is stuck, he thought he'd be safe. He thought he was free. But he'd still managed to ruin everything, and now the best person on the server feels safe sleeping against him, eating his food, and inviting him into his home.

Every day his husband tells him about a fruitless day searching for his best friend's killer while he sits there with blood on his hands.

Ranboo heads to his basement. Napping so early will throw him off for the rest of the night, but at least he has plenty of time to sort his chests until he goes to bed for real.

-

Ranboo wakes up to sunlight filtering through his curtains. He rolls out of bed and down his stairs.

The couch is empty, as he expects. Tubbo is mostly human, and he's been shifting back to a normal waking time since Tommy's death. He should be out investigating right about now.

He's feeding the cats when the front door opens.

Tubbo comes into the kitchen, fumbling with the basket of eggs in his hands when he sees Ranboo.

"Oh! Awww, I wanted to make you breakfast before you got up." He smiles, then whispers. "I stole from Technoblade."

Ranboo holds back a snort. "I'm sure he'll love to hear about that. Don't you have to meet up with Sam?"

Tubbo sets the eggs down on the countertop. "Not today. We've been working everyday for weeks, I thought we could go work on the hotel?"

"Okay! Sounds good."

"Then sit down! I'm still making us breakfast. Well. Breakfast for you. Lunch for me."

Ranboo grabs the plates and sets the table, despite Tubbo threatening him with a spatula. The air is calm. Quiet. He remembers suddenly that this is why he can't tell Tubbo the truth.

Tubbo slides a few eggs in front of him, then some into a plate for himself.

Ranboo starts thinking out loud about the hotel. When Tubbo finishes his eggs as well, Ranboo reaches for the plates. Tubbo stops him.

"I wanted to talk to you before we go out, actually."

Ranboo settles back down into his chair. "Um, okay. Is everything alright?"

Tubbo's eyes are fixed on Ranboo's chin like he does when he wants to make eye contact without hurting Ranboo.

"That's actually what I wanted to ask you."

"Huh?" Ranboo leans back. "Yeah, I'm fine?"

Tubbo sighs.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Your scars are getting worse. Every day, they're worse." Tubbo explains. "I don't want to make you talk about it if it'll make you cry, but if it's going to happen regardless..."

"I'm fine." Ranboo replies. "I don't mean to. It's just been happening, we don't need to talk about it."

"Ranboo, please. If this is about Tommy, I'll be okay. We're both sad, let's be sad together."

"It's not about Tommy."

Tubbo's head jerks back. "It's not about Tommy?"

"No, so it doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters! You're crying everyday when I'm gone or asleep! If it isn't about Tommy, then why didn't you come to me?"

Ranboo shakes his head. He's going to cry right here at this rate.

"Please, Boo, what's going on?"

Tubbo reaches forward to grab his wrist.

"Is it... are you worried? Sam and I are safe, Dream is still in prison. Whoever blew up the TNT won't get past Sam. They'll be dead before they could reach me."

Ranboo turns to face the window, and starts wiping at his face with his free hand before the tears hit his skin.

"Please." Tubbo's hands tighten

Ranboo panics. There's one thing he definitely can't say- 'Oh, at night I dream about murdering you, and when you're gone I think about how I'm lying to you. It's been a little tough on my face.'

He says something worse, instead.

"I think you should go."

"What?"

"I think," He breathes. "You need to leave."

"Is it me?" Tubbo asks, horrified. "Oh god, what did I do?"

Ranboo pulls his hand out of Tubbo's slack grip.

The sky is clear outside. The bright sun reflects off the snow on the ground.

Ranboo stands and grabs their plates.

"Just tell me what's wrong! I'll stop! Ranboo?"

"Please leave."

He puts on his gloves and starts cleaning the plates.

After about a minute, he hears shuffling. Tubbo pushing in his chair.

"Ranboo."

"Please."

More shuffling.

"Okay." Tubbo concedes. "I'll come back. Soon. And you can tell me then."

Ranboo shakes his head, still scrubbing the dishes. He can hear footsteps headed towards the door.

"I love you."

And Tubbo leaves.

Tubbo is safer this way. Tubbo never has to know what he did and he'll be fine, far away from Ranboo. If he comes back, then Ranboo can tell him to leave again.

It hadn't been the plan, but maybe the plan was selfish. He'd already killed Tommy. What was wrong with him that he wasn't immediately willing to let go of Tubbo to keep him safe?

He's careful not to splash up the dishwater when he rinses the pan, but his face still burns.

-

He's had a long morning. Getting new resources without a comm relaying Tubbo's greatest hits and pick-up lines is lonelier than he remembers.

He wants to collapse on the couch like he used to after long mining trips. But he'd gotten used to coming home with Tubbo, staying up on the stupid yellow couch he'd gotten just for when Tubbo stayed over, and watching the sun set until Tubbo fell asleep.

He doesn't want to wallow, today. The couch is now forbidden ground. Instead, he drags himself up the stairs towards his bedroom so he can lay down for a bit.

Apparently, he doesn't get a choice whether this afternoon is going to suck.

Tubbo is sitting against the bed on the floor. Ranboo can't see his face, but he's shaking, and he's holding something. Before Ranboo can think he rushes forwards onto his knees and wraps his arms around Tubbo.

Tubbo doesn't return the hug. He just sits there. Ranboo can feel his cheek burning where it touches Tubbo's.

"Hey, hey, it's okay! Everythings okay. Everyone is safe."

Tubbo shakes his head. "You're not."

Ranboo pulls back just enough to see what Tubbo is holding.

The books.

"No."

He falls back, pushing himself away.

"You didn't- Did you read those?"

Tubbo nods. He's still looking at the books in his hands. "I just wanted to know why."

Ranboo stays silent. He can hear Tubbo breathing, and the cats are downstairs, meowing.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

He pauses, and after a long moment, he says "I didn't know how."

Tubbo's grip on the books tightens. "An 'I'm a danger to myself and others' would've worked just fine, memory boy. Maybe an 'I need help.'"

Tubbo drops the books on the ground between them with a thump, then points down at them.

"Even just a 'read this.' Not telling me to leave."

Ranboo stares at him.

Tubbo is still shaking, just enough that Ranboo can see it. He doesn't know how long Tubbo's been up here, but his cheeks are red like he's been scrubbing at them. His shirt sleeves are damp.

He itches to wrap him up in the nearby comforter and squirrel him away in the basement vault, but he can't even bring himself to touch him.

"I'm sorry." he repeats.

Tubbo stares right at his eyes, looking for something. Ranboo doesn't know what, but he doubts Tubbo will find it.

"Okay." Tubbo leans back, and closes his eyes. "Okay. Let's go to Snowchester for dinner."

"What?"

"I saw your kitchen, big man, we're not getting any cooking done in there. Have you washed dishes since I left?" Tubbo smiles a bit.

"Uh. That wasn't really- dinner?"

"You look hungry. We've got a lot of talking and planning to do, we might as well be eating while we do it."

"Tubbo."

"Yeah?"

"How much of those books did you read?"

Tubbo's brows furrow. "The whole thing, Boo."

"Then why would you want to eat with me? I helped Dream."

Tubbo frowns. "Did you want to help Dream?"

"No! I mean, I don't right now. I don't remember ever wanting to. But I did it anyway."

"But you don't want to."

"I helped kill Tommy, Tubbo. It doesn't matter if I wanted to or not. I'm a monster."

Tubbo flinches, then shuffles forward on his knees and grabs his hands, too tight for Ranboo to pull away without scratching him.

He stares right at him for just a moment, before squaring his eyes just below Ranboo's.

"You remember I exiled Tommy, yeah?"

Ranboo nods.

"When we were setting up the funeral, after I found the pillar, did you think it was my fault?"

Ranboo runs through his limited memory of those days. "No." he concludes. "You made the wrong choice, but you didn't want him to die."

Tubbo nods, bumping his chin up just enough that Ranboo can tell he wants to headbutt him.

"You made the wrong choice. You should've told someone. But it's no one's fault but Dream's."

Ranboo starts to talk, but Tubbo continues with a hand squeeze.

"Or maybe it's all of ours. It could be mine, or Sam's, too. But I'm not going to blame it on you."

"Tubbo, you said it yourself. Tommy was only in there because of the TNT. He used me, if it weren't for me-"

Tubbo shakes his head. "We can blame people all day! If Tommy hadn't visited. If I had pushed for him to be released. If Sam let him go!"

Tubbo leans back and stares up at him.

"But none of us wanted Tommy dead. And neither did you."

"Of course not."

"That's what makes the difference."

Ranboo doesn't respond.

Tubbo stands up and pulls Ranboo up along after him.

"C'mon, big guy. We've got a lot to figure out."

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> what if i speedran a fic and realized afterwards it was almost entirely dialogue  
> thanks for reading!
> 
> (eeby beeby folks, thanks for motivating me to write, yall are so cool)


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